Labour is blossoming or dancing where
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The body is not bruised to pleasure soul.
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Nor beauty born out of its own despair,
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Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.
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O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,
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Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
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O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
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How can we know the dancer from the dance?
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{William Butler Yeats}
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~ Love & Infinite Oneness from Yoga Gypsy ~
